Kissing Complete Strangers
by KifKathleen
Summary: During a trip to Paris, a narrow escape leads the Doctor to an old friend he has never met. And thence to a crashing spaceship and an imploding metacrisis, because it wouldn't be a real vacation without a few crises along the way.
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: _Unfortunately, I have absolutely no claim on Doctor Who. Nor am I making any profit from this. Also, my apologies to any Doctor/Donna shippers - despite the title, this is not a Doctor/Donna romance. She's a happily married woman, thank you very much.

* * *

"Time travel's like visiting Paris. You can't just read the guide book, you've got to throw yourself in. Eat the food, use the wrong verbs, get charged double and end up kissing complete strangers. Or is that just me?"

\- The Doctor, from "The Long Game" by Russell T Davies

* * *

Leather jacket flapping at his sides, the Doctor charged through the streets of Paris, elbowing the crowds aside without apology. It was hard to hear his pursuers over the sounds of his thick rubber boot soles pounding the pavement, of his heartsbeats pounding in his ears, but he knew they were still there. If the Ngskonites had been running with their natural four-limbed gait, they would have easily caught him up by now. Fortunately for him, they seemed determined to maintain their cover as humans, and the effort of running on two legs was slowing them down. But not enough - they were steadily gaining on him, and he knew he needed to take evasive action immediately.

He made a hard right turn around a corner, narrowly avoiding collision with a couple who were romantically entangled under a street lamp. And that gave him the idea he needed. As a ginger woman laden with elegant shopping bags stepped from a shop, he ducked into the doorway, caught her around the waist, spinning her towards him, and pressed his lips to hers.

For a few seconds, she was shocked into immobility. But those few seconds were all he needed; the sounds of pursuit had already gone past when she shoved him away with surprising strength. He staggered back a couple of steps, and made no effort to evade the slap he saw coming. It was well-deserved, he knew, but it still hurt like the dickens, and he cradled his injured cheek in his palm.

Not content with the slap, his victim was now using her shopping bags to beat him about the shoulders. She was very irate. And, he could clearly hear, very much not a local. "Oi, just what do you think you're doing, you French perv? I'm a married woman, I'll have you know. Not that that should make any difference, because married or single, you can't just -"

He shouldered past her, head ducked low. "Pardonnez-moi, madame."

"Par-don-ay?" she shrieked after him. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?"

It was. He needed to be gone before the Ngskonites realized they had been tricked. And he still needed to figure out how to stop the alien plot he had stumbled into. He walked away without a backward glance at the fiery Brit still yelling insults at him.

* * *

In the end, the business with the Ngskonites was settled rather quickly: a brazen re-entry to their base of operations; a speech about the potential of the human race, designed to appeal to the invaders' better natures; when the speech didn't work, a few judicious applications of the sonic screwdriver to their equipment; and the Ngskonites were licking their wounds on their way back to their home galaxy. They would undoubtedly be back to give world domination another go in the future, but that was okay - it would give the Doctor something to do.

For now, he was just standing on the observation deck of the Eiffel Tower, watching Parisians and tourists far below and thinking what a mistake it had been to come here. The last time he stood on this deck, Romana was beside him; now he was painfully reminded that he would never see her again, would never see any of them again.

A stage whisper behind him cut through his black thoughts. "That's him, Shaun! That's the git who grabbed me. Go on, give him a piece of your mind!"

"Me? Since when does Mrs. Donna Temple-Noble need any help telling someone off?"

"Since I didn't learn any French for this trip. You're the one who did those Rosetta Stone lessons."

"Yes, well, they didn't exactly cover this situation, did they?" the man grumbled. Nevertheless, the Doctor heard hesitant footsteps approach, saw a dark-skinned man enter his peripheral vision. "Uh, excusez-moi, monsieur."

The Doctor closed his eyes, gripped the railing tightly. Maybe if he ignored this Shaun, the man would give up. But he repeated, "Monsieur? Excusez-moi?"

The Doctor sighed and opened his eyes. "I speak English."

"Oh! You're a Brit!" Shaun sounded more relieved at the evaporation of the language barrier than aggrieved for his wife's honor. He turned back towards the ginger. "He's English! You can have a go at him yourself."

And sure enough, Donna was now stomping towards him. The Doctor turned to face her, decided to head her off at the pass. "Listen, I'm very sorry about earlier. I was in a spot of trouble and I needed some camouflage." He paused, then added a bit of flannel for good measure. "Your kiss may just have saved my life."

She snorted, although he thought she preened just a bit at that last part. "Does 'spot of trouble' mean 'being chased by a jealous husband'?"

"More like international smugglers." Actually, more like intergalactic raiders, but he wanted to keep it simple.

"So, what, are you Interpol or something?" she asked, her tone somehow managing to convey doubt and excitement at the same time.

For answer, the Doctor pulled out the psychic paper. Husband and wife both leaned in to read it. "MI-6!" Shaun exclaimed, at the same time that Donna said, "It's blank."

They looked at each other sharply, and the Doctor filed away this interesting tidbit about Donna Temple-Noble, whilst hastily shoving the paper back into his jacket and distracting them by saying, "Anyway, it's all sorted now, crisis averted, thanks very much for your assistance. I'll just be shoving off now, nice to meet you both, have a good holiday." He started past them, but was stopped by Donna's hand on his sleeve.

"So everything's all better? You got the bad guys?"

"Yep."

"Then why are you hanging about up here looking so mopey?"

He gave her a look that could make Daleks cringe. Who did she think she was talking to? Mopey? He wasn't mopey. Time Lords didn't mope. But she continued on unfazed, "I mean, Paris is supposed to be the City of Love, but you look like...Oh. Oh, that's it, isn't it? You've lost someone."

Her earlier brassiness had faded into a look of soft compassion that somehow made him want to sob and confess all. Instead, he turned back to the railing, knuckles white on the iron, hunched forward, staring out across the city. "Someone? Try everyone."

There was a moment of stillness following this declaration, and he thought that maybe she would finally leave him alone, but then she was gripping a handful of leather and pulling him away from the rail and saying in a brisk voice, "Right, well, tossing yourself off the Eiffel Tower is not the solution."

"What? No, that's not...I wasn't planning to..."

"Come on, Mister Super-Spy, you're coming with us," she said as she hauled the Doctor along behind her. "We're going to go get coffees and pastries at some ridiculously overpriced bistro and sit at a sidewalk table and make fun of the other tourists. Our treat, Shaun and me. It's not like we can't afford it. Craziest thing, at our wedding last year - this is actually our first-anniversary trip, thank you very much - anyway, at the wedding, some bloke I don't even know gave us a lottery ticket, and I said to my granddad, I said, 'Who gives a lottery ticket as a wedding present?' but wouldn't you know..."

The Doctor tuned out her rambling, but he followed along willingly enough. There was something oddly familiar and comforting about Donna. And it wasn't like he had anywhere else to be at the moment.

* * *

The trio found a cafe where locals seemed to outnumber tourists, and settled themselves around a table outside. The Doctor took the seat closest to the building, leaning back until he could feel the solid brick wall behind him. Not that he was expecting an ambush, but the hyper-vigilance born of war was a tough habit to break. Shaun and Donna sat on either side of him, angling their chairs towards the street to facilitate people-watching.

The Doctor looked over the French-language menu the waitress provided, whilst Shaun pulled out a pocket dictionary, mumbling to himself as he laboriously translated. Donna didn't even glance at her menu. "You'll have to order for me, love. Cafe au lait and an almond croissant." The Doctor deemed it prudent to refrain from mentioning that her order was nearly all in French already.

When the waitress returned, Shaun stammered through the order of two coffees and two croissants in a passable if tentative accent. In contrast, the Doctor beamed up at the woman with the self-assurance of someone who spoke five billion languages. "Je voudrais comencer un cafe et un eclair, s'il vous plait."

The waitress' lips twitched, for some reason beyond the Doctor's ken, but she replied, "Tres bien, monsieur."

Donna was not so restrained, although she did manage to wait until the woman had gone inside before guffawing. "'I'd like to **start** a coffee'? Who says that? Is that some kind of Northern slang? Are you planning to finish the coffee, too?"

Both men stared at her. "And since when do you know French?" asked Shaun.

"What are you on about? That was English. And lucky for him that she could actually understand him."

"Nnnoooo..." Shaun drew out the syllable in confusion, as the Doctor reviewed his words in his mind. Had he automatically reverted to English? No, he was positive he had spoken French, although he now realized that he had stupidly confused _commander_, "to order", with _comencer_, "to start".

There was only one explanation he could think of: Donna had been a passenger on the TARDIS at some point. He didn't remember her from his past, and she clearly didn't recognize his current face, so that meant she knew a future incarnation. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about having future incarnations, but that was moot at the moment.

The waitress returned with their order as Shaun still seemed to be trying to put his concerns into words. Donna had already moved on. "So I guess you've figured out by now that my name is Donna and my husband is Shaun. But we still don't know your name," she said as she picked up her cup.

"I'm the Doctor," he said, watching carefully for her reaction.

It wasn't hard to spot. The hand holding the cup jerked, splashing a liberal amount of hot coffee into her lap. "Oh, well that's just wizard! Don't know how I did it. Right klutz I am, can't take me anywhere. I'm going to have to clean up. Don't you boys go anywhere without me."

She hurried inside the cafe, the Doctor following her with his eyes and a puzzled frown over her reaction. Shaun's response was equally odd; as soon as his wife was out of view, he rounded on the Doctor with an angry whisper: "Are you insane?"

"I've been told so. Repeatedly."

"Are you trying to kill her?"

"Kill who?" the Doctor asked in honest confusion.

"The Queen of England! Who do you think?"

"Why in the world would I be trying to kill the Queen?"

Shaun buried his face in his hands. "That was sarcasm, you idiot. Look, you're the Doctor?"

"That's what I said."

"_The_ Doctor? The big blue box Doctor?"

"Ah, you know me!" he said, a smile lighting up his eyes.

"Of course I don't know you! How could I possibly know you? But I know _of_ you. Wilf's told me plenty. And what I know is that you need to get out of here right now."

The Doctor never took kindly to being ordered about. His lips thinned, eyes narrowed mutinously. Shaun didn't seem to notice; he jumped to his feet, stared anxiously at the cafe entrance. "Has she been gone too long? What if something happened to her inside?"

"It's just a bit of coffee. I'm sure she's fine," the Doctor said coolly.

"Maybe I should..." Shaun started, but then Donna was hurrying back outside, the purple designer handbag she held in front of her doing a poor job of concealing the large damp spot on the front of her beige trousers. She sank back into her seat, and Shaun, still quivering with anxiety, did the same.

"Well, I think I got all the stain out, but now I look like a toddler who wet herself. We'll have to sit here until I dry, 'cause I'm not walking around the fashion capital of the world like this."

"Fine by me, sweetheart; we're in no rush," said Shaun quickly, then nodded towards the Doctor. "But himself probably has important work he needs to get to."

The Doctor tipped back in his chair and crossed an ankle over his knee. "Oh no, case is closed, remember? I've got all the time in the world."

Donna snorted. "Well, you're just a right lord of time, aren't you?" Both men started, but she didn't notice, her eyes fixed on the passersby as she sipped what remained of her coffee. "Anyway, I think you were about to tell us your name when I had my little accident."

The Doctor was about to repeat his earlier answer, but he caught Shaun's look of absolute panic and decided to have mercy on the man. "John Smith."

"Oh sure, of course," she laughed. "I suppose if you told me your real name, you'd have to kill me, eh?"

The Doctor smiled but didn't respond. And then he cocked his head as a strange whining sound faintly reached his ears. Shaun was cutting his eyes at him and giving subtle twitches of his head to indicate an earnest desire for the Doctor's immediate exit, but the Time Lord ignored him as the sound grew steadily louder. He squinted up into the cloudless sky but could see nothing. "What is that noise?"

"What noise?" Donna turned away from her people-watching to look at him, the furrow in her brow only deepening as he pulled a pair of large field glasses from his trouser pocket.

He located it straight away, just a tiny speck in the blue at first, but rapidly growing larger until he could recognize it as... "No! No-no-no-no-no, this can't...They left, they were going home, why would they..."

"Oi! Super-spy! Complete sentences. What's got your knickers in a twist? What are you looking at?"

"Ngskonite star cruiser," he said, still staring through the glasses. The whistle of the ship's rapid descent was becoming audible to human ears now, and pedestrians were starting to look around in confusion. "I'd say Battleship Class 6-Delta. Maybe 6-Gamma, they're very similar. But this doesn't make sense. I sent them packing hours ago. I saw them go; they all hopped in their little scout ship and headed back to- Oh." He lowered the glasses slowly, met Donna's eyes, and saw his own dismay reflected in her face.

"This -" He stabbed an accusing finger up towards the fast-approaching spaceship, which was now visible, if still not quite identifiable, to the naked eye. "This is not my fault."

"What isn't? And hang on, did you say 'star cruiser'? As in, spaceship? As in, aliens?"

"The speed, the angle of descent - they're not invading, they're crashing. And that is not my fault. I mean, yes, I did muck about with the adarillium hadron stabilizer, but I _told_ them that, I _warned_ them. If they were stupid enough to attempt propulsion reintegration without recalibrating first...well, I can't be responsible for the outcome."

Both of his companions were staring at him as if he had suddenly started speaking Zygon, so he summoned up hidden reserves of patience and began explaining, "See, Ngskonite Class 6's use adarillic pan-hierarchical propulsion units, but -"

"Oh, I get it," Donna interrupted. "So when the scout ship docked with the mothership, its engine got integrated back into the master propulsion system. But because you had messed with the adarillium stabilizer, the resonance patterns were now out of whack. And because they didn't recalibrate before they reintegrated the scout, the disharmonics blew out the whole system and the mothership is now in freefall."

The Doctor nodded, pleasantly surprised that she had caught on so fast. But Shaun's mouth was hanging open. "How...how did you know that?"

Donna shrugged. "Well, it makes sense. I mean, that's how adarillic pan-hierarchical propulsion units work."

"And how do you know that?"

"I dunno. Must have seen it on one of those science programs Gramps likes watching." She winced and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"All right?" the Doctor asked.

"Yeah, just a bit of a headache. Probably got too much sun today."

"But, see, here's the thing," he said, "Adarillium doesn't exist on Earth. So you definitely didn't hear about it on the telly. Which makes me wonder exactly how you did know about it."

"Well, I don't know. I heard it somewhere, obviously," she snapped, rubbing at her temples with both hands now.

Shaun cleared his throat, his fingers shredding his napkin into confetti without his seeming to notice. "Listen, I really think we should change the subject."

Donna rounded on him. "Are you kidding me? There's a spaceship about to crash-land in Paris. What should we be talking about? Adele's latest hit?" She swung back to the Doctor. "And what are you planning to do about this anyway?"

"Me? I'm here on the ground, the ship is in mid-air. There's absolutely nothing I can do at the moment." He peered through the glasses again and suddenly straightened. "Oh, but that's...that's fantastic! Absolutely fantastic!"

"What is?" Donna squinted up at the sky to try to see what he was seeing.

"The ship's pilot. They're still crashing, nothing to be done about that. But it's a controlled crash - he's managed to reduce the speed and target a landing zone. Looks like they're going to come down in the Champ de Mars. The park right in front of the Eiffel Tower," he explained before they could ask. "Going to take out a lot of trees and benches with memorial plaques on them, but casualties on the ground should be few to none."

"And casualties on the ship?" Donna asked.

He lowered the glasses to look her in the eye. "Well, fewer than there would be otherwise. And fair play to you for caring about what happens to a bunch of aliens who until this morning had designs on your home world." He jumped to his feet. "But the survivors...oh, we're in trouble now. Come on, we've got to be there when they land."

"Why?" said Shaun.

"The survivors are going to be landing in what they consider hostile territory. You've heard of fight-or-flight response? Well, after catastrophic engine failure, flight won't be an option."

"And how will our being there help?"

"I'm hoping they won't feel the need to fight the locals if I can guarantee them safe passage back to Ngskon."

"You're going to offer a bunch of aliens a lift back to their planet?" said Donna doubtfully.

"Yep."

"And you want us to come with you to this parley? You need our help?"

He shrugged. "Might do. Up to you." He took a couple steps down the street, clearly eager to be on his way.

"No, Donna," Shaun said, "Don't go. It's not a good idea."

"Oh, don't be such a nancy," she said, standing to follow the Doctor, massaging her brow creased in pain.

"I'm not. I'll go myself, if he really needs help. But you have to stay here."

"Listen, mister, don't tell me what I can and can't...what I...what I can't..." She swayed, her gaze unfocused, and grabbed at the back of the chair.

Shaun caught her as her eyes fluttered closed and her knees buckled. "Help her!" he yelled at the Time Lord.

The Doctor groaned. "Fantastic. Sorry, Shaun, I don't have time to deal with fainting females. Take her to A&E, they'll know what to do." He turned in the direction of the Eiffel Tower.

"Make time, Time Lord!" Donna's husband shouted, all traces of his natural diffidence subsumed in his worry. "This is your fault! You did this to her, and you are the only one who can fix it. So get back here and start fixing."

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Shaun, but I don't know you. I don't know Donna. I don't know anyone named Wilf. And I have no idea why Donna chose the absolute most inopportune moment to pass out. Whatever history you all have with me, it's still in my future. So I'm not the man to help you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have an invasion to avert." He turned yet again towards the site of the impending crash. But Shaun's next words, quiet and calm, rooted him in place.

"She has your brain."

"What?" He turned back to see Shaun lowering Donna into a chair, draping her arms on the table and then pillowing her head on them.

"I don't know all the details. It was before I met her. But somehow your mind, your..." He struggled for the terminology. "Your consciousness ended up in her head."

"A human brain can't handle a Time Lord consciousness."

"I know. It was killing her. So somehow you locked it away, and with it the memories of everything she had done and seen since she met you. You said if she ever remembered, her mind would burn." He laid dark fingers against her flushed cheek. "She's burning now."

The Doctor stood frozen, horrified. For a moment he glanced with uncharacteristic irresoluteness between the unconscious woman and the rapidly descending ship. Then he stepped to Donna's side, put his hands to her temples, and with a grimace broke a taboo of every telepathic race across the universe by entering a mind uninvited.

It wasn't a pleasant experience. It was burning heat and crushing pressure. But perversely, the pain made him feel better about the mental invasion, as if he needed to prove that he was doing this to save her rather than to ease his aching loneliness. He tried to nudge and channel the psychic chaos towards an outlet. There was a sensation of release and relief as a golden mist reminiscent of regeneration energy wafted from her mouth. The Doctor dropped his hands with a sigh.

"What did you do?" Shaun asked.

"Bought us some time. Come on, let's go."

"Are you insane?" Shaun's voice rose sharply.

The Doctor sucked his teeth. "You keep asking me that."

"I can't just leave her here passed out."

The Time Lord shrugged. "Suit yourself." He turned towards the Tower.

"You can't leave her either. You have to fix her."

He folded his arms across his chest, his face a stony mask. "Listen. I've got two major problems happening. But only one that I actually know how to deal with at the moment. So I'm going to go take care of that one, and hope that a solution to the other occurs to me along the way." He relented slightly at Shaun's look of despair. "If it helps, I've got a pretty good track record with the whole thinking-on-my-feet thing."


	2. Chapter 2

The Ngskonite ship arrived in the Champ de Mars before the Time Lord did, but he was close enough that the shockwave of the impact knocked him to the ground. He struggled back to his feet, engaging his respiratory bypass to avoid breathing in the smoke billowing from the engines and the dust kicked up from the several-hundred-foot-long furrow the ship had dug in its landing.

The pilot had done a remarkable job of aligning his approach to the greenspace, sparing the traffic and buildings on either side. And the park had quickly emptied as the spaceship's trajectory became apparent, so the terrestrial casualties seemed to be limited to Kingdom Plantae.

For long moments, all was still - the bustle of a city in motion was suspended, even birds were shocked into silence, and the ship remained quiet as a grave for so long that the Doctor began to fear that was all it now was.

But at last, with staccato movements and a great deal of metallic groaning and hydraulic hissing, the exit hatch opened, and a group of Ngskonites stumbled forward into the Parisian sunlight.

The Ngskonites were no longer trying to pass as humans, with shimmers and a two-legged stance. They stood on four feet, a little over a meter tall at the shoulders, their general body shape resembling a cheetah, but with leathery skin that came in a variety of shades of blue. Just above their forelegs were a pair of arms, foreshortened like those of a T. Rex, but still capable of holding some deadly weaponry - plasma guns, if the Doctor had to guess.

He clasped his hands in front of him. "Welcome to Earth! Or welcome back, if some of you were already here in the scouting party. I'm the Doctor, and -"

"You!" The midnight-blue female at the forefront of the group, probably the captain, judging by the amount of decoration on her uniform, brought her weapon to bear on him. Many of her soldiers still looked a bit dazed, but her yellow eyes were narrowed and focused. "This is your fault!"

"Well, I can see how it might seem that way at first glance. But when you really stop to think about it, I believe you will find that most of the blame lies on your side."

Her only response was an inarticulate cry of rage, and the Doctor gave a single curt nod. "Ah. Not quite ready to accept responsibility just yet. I understand. Well, let's just leave that for the moment. But the thing is, you really can put your guns away now. I come in peace. And these apes -" He gestured expansively at the crowds beginning to gather and gawk around the fringes of the park - "still have no idea what's going on, so they're no threat at the moment."

"I'll tell you what you can do with your peace," the captain spat at him - quite literally, since the gutturals of the Ngskonite language produce copious amounts of saliva when uttered in anger. The Doctor wiped his face before folding his arms across his chest. "But you are right that the humans are no threat to us. Because we will crush them like-"

"No, I don't think so." The Doctor lifted his left hand from his right arm to study his fingernails. "I mean, this morning, one man - one very impressive man, admittedly, but still - one man and a sonic screwdriver were enough to send you packing. If you weren't ready for a full-scale invasion then, you're certainly not ready now, with a downed ship and who knows how many casualties. Not saying a full Ngskonite battle fleet couldn't give Earth a run for its money, but not you, not now. What's your name?"

The captain looked a bit gobsmacked by the Doctor's nonchalance and the non-sequitur question. "Uh...G'ndkhaslar."

"So what about it, G'ndkhaslar? Let me offer you a lift home."

Her gun dipped fractionally - not enough to suit the Doctor, but it was progress. "How do you mean, lift?"

"Well, that depends on your ship. If she's got an intact hull and functional life support, you can stay in her while I tow you back. Otherwise, you can ride along in my ship. I suppose I'd still have to tow yours back in that case too. Don't want the humans getting their grubby little hands on tech that they shouldn't have for centuries." He clapped his hands. "So why don't we head back in and see what we have to work with, shall we?" He stepped towards the ship, but stopped when G'ndkhaslar's gun came to bear on him again.

"No," the captain said.

"No?" He frowned. "If you're holding out for a better offer, you're not going to get one. A free ride home for ship and crew, no strings attached? What more could you want?"

"If we return home without completing our mission, I will be court-martialed. We aren't leaving till it's done."

The Doctor snorted. "Not leaving? You were already on your way back home. That's what caused this Code Mauve in the first place."

"No, that's what you wanted to believe, and our scouts let you. We weren't leaving, we were just moving; since you disrupted our base here, we figured we would set up a new one on the other side of the planet. There is another continental mass across the ocean that would suit our purposes just as well."

"Ah." His lips compressed into a thin line and the tips of his ears pinked to show his chagrin, before he spoke again. "Fine, I'll bite. What exactly are those purposes?"

"You don't seriously expect me to tell you our plans?"

The Doctor shrugged. "Well, I don't see what plans you could possibly have now, with a downed ship. Unless you fancy calling your commanding officer and explaining that you need a new ship because you broke yours."

"That wouldn't be my first choice, no. But fortunately, I don't need to, because you just told me that you have a ship that can hold all my crew and even tow our vessel along." Her triangular ears swiveled and her tongue lolled out in the Ngskonite version of a smile.

"Uh-uh-uh." The Doctor wagged his finger. "My offer was a lift home, not aiding and abetting whatever evil plot you've got going."

"I don't see that you have much choice. Because we all have guns. And you, as far as I can tell, are unarmed."

"Well...now...that is a compelling argument." The Doctor was quiet for a moment, then said, "All right, then, come on if you're coming. But not like that - you'll cause a panic in the streets. Go get your shimmers on."

G'ndkhaslar swivelled to survey her crew. "Xog, your quartet is with me. Fetch us some shimmers. Tarcham, your quartet is on guard duty. Chuhn, have your quartet check hull integrity and life support. Start any needed repairs. Jump to it."

The Doctor tapped his foot impatiently as he waited, but at last he was surrounded by six shimmer-clad Ngskonites standing on two legs, and they set off through the city.

* * *

"How much further is this ship?" G'ndkhaslar asked as they approached the bistro where Shaun still sat at a table, anxiously wiping Donna's slack face with a damp napkin.

"Not far now. Just a little detour to pick up the rest of my crew. G'ndkhaslar, this is my first mate Shaun and my, uh, communications officer Donna. Shaun and Donna, this is Captain G'ndkhaslar and some of her officers. We're their prisoners now." He leaned down and slung Donna into a fireman's carry over Shaun's cry of protest, and continued down the street with barely a pause.

"What is wrong with the female?" G'ndkhaslar asked.

"Oh, you know, first shore leave in Paris. Hit the _vin_ a bit too hard."

Shaun caught up to him as he led the party down the sidewalk. "Doctor, what is going on? What are you up to?"

"I told you. We're their prisoners. They're forcing us to take them to the TARDIS."

"No, they're forcing _you_. Donna and I were well out of it. Why did you pull us in?"

"You know the old saying: Keep your friends close and your imploding metacrises closer."

"No one has ever said that, ever."

"Well, then, I get credit for coining it, don't I?" the Doctor replied brightly.

* * *

By the time they reached the TARDIS, the Doctor was breathing hard. "She's not exactly a featherweight, is she?" he commented as he shifted his burden in order to fish his key from his jacket.

"Watch it, that's my wife you're talking about! I happen to think she's perfect just as she is."

"Fine," the Doctor said as he pushed the door open. "Next trek across the city, you can carry her." He stepped inside, but stopped after only a few paces. "Huh. Interesting."

"What's that?" asked Shaun.

"The TARDIS recognizes Donna. She's welcoming her. She doesn't usually do that. Or, at least, she doesn't usually let me know it. Doesn't want to give me spoilers. But this...it's almost like the TARDIS is trying to make it up to her for something." He rounded on Shaun, narrowly missing hitting him with Donna's dangling mule-clad feet. "Did I not do right by Donna?"

Shaun glanced uneasily over his shoulder at the aliens crowding up behind him. "Wilf says you did the best you could."

The Doctor grunted, moved past the console, and with his foot nudged open a door to reveal an empty room, white walls filled with large pale-rose roundels. He gave a short laugh. "You really do like her, old girl," he said as he laid Donna on the floor. "Last time I needed the Zero Room, you made me search for it for ages."

As soon as he had closed the door on the metacrisis, he became more animated. "Right," he said, clapping his hands together as he faced his guests, who had shed their shimmers as soon as they crossed the threshold. "Uh, Xog, is it? Yes, Xog, shut the doors if you please. And just give me a minute to make some adjustments..." He dropped to his back under the console, pulled out the sonic screwdriver, fiddled with something or other, then jumped back to his feet, looking inordinately pleased. "Very good, all in working order. So, G'ndkhaslar, now we can talk about what you are doing here on Earth."

"I believe we already established that that is none of your business."

"Well, now I'm making it my business."

The Ngskonite captain waved her weapon. "The people with the guns make the rules."

The Doctor grinned. "Ah-ah-ah. The people with _working_ guns make the rules. You'll find that yours are no longer in that category." His smile only broadened as G'ndkhaslar pointed her gun at the ceiling and pulled the trigger to no effect. "Temporal grace. Weapons won't fire in here. And thanks for giving me a minute just now to double-check that the circuitry was working. It's been known to be a bit temperamental."

G'ndkhaslar yowled her anger. "Trust me, Doctor, you don't want to make an enemy of the Ngskonite Empire."

The Doctor threw himself onto the jump seat and propped his boot heels up on the console. "Trust me, G'ndkhaslar, I've made lots of enemies in my life. One empire more or less won't make a difference. Now here's where we stand: your guns are useless, you don't know how to fly my ship, you don't even know how to open those doors to leave. So you might as well tell me what you want with the Earth, and then I'll decide if I feel like cooperating."

At a jerk of G'ndkhaslar's head, the six Ngskonites threw all of their energies into trying to force open the door, hurling themselves at it, prying at it, battering at it with their useless guns. The Doctor sighed, pulled a yo-yo from his pocket and tried a few tricks with limited success, while Shaun paced to and fro in front of the Zero Room door.

After a few minutes, the Doctor put his yo-yo away and laced his fingers behind his head. "Oh, come on, just admit that I outplayed you."

G'ndkhaslar wheeled around and stalked towards him, pointing one long blue finger at the end of her short blue arm. "By the skhaszhinbach, you will pay for all of this!"

In an instant, the Doctor's casual attitude vanished. He sat to attention, feet firmly on the ground. "Say that again."

"You will pay -"

"Yeah, yeah, got the threat, ta. Say the oath again."

G'ndkhaslar closed her eyes, took a deep breath, let it out slowly, then turned to her second in command. "Fine, if he's so determined to know why we are here, explain it to him, Xog."

The pale blue Ngskonite, half a head shorter than his captain but much broader, stepped forward, declaiming in tones that wouldn't seem out of place on a Shakespearean stage, "The brilliant scientific minds of the mighty Ngskonite Empire have sent probes to the farthest reaches of -"

"Less propaganda, more information, please. I probably won't die of old age waiting for your point, but Shaun here might."

Xog flushed a deeper blue and dropped the affected manner. "The probe data from this planet indicated the presence of elements and molecules that don't occur on Ngskon. Things that our scientists believe could have very useful applications. We were sent here to evaluate the feasibility of setting up harvesting and processing facilities."

The Doctor leaned back in his seat again and folded his arms. "So you're not here to colonize, you're here to mine? Mine for what? What's in Paris that you would want?"

"This is just one of many possible sites. The chemicals we need are in the atmosphere, so they're accessible from any point on the planet. Processing requires a source of fresh moving water; this city has a river running through it. And the large population means that our activities do not stand out. But as my captain already said, there are plenty of other locations on this planet that we can use, now that our situation here has become...untenable."

"We'll see about that. You still haven't told me what you're looking for."

"Easier to show you." Xog tapped a few times on a touchscreen strapped to his right front leg, and a hologram appeared in the air in front of him, a rotating display of several molecular models in ball-and-stick form.

The Doctor squinted at the display. "CFCs...HFCs...Methane."

Shaun paused in his pacing at this. The models hadn't meant much to him, beyond the recognition that he had seen similar forms in secondary school science labs. But those names sounded familiar. "But aren't those...those are greenhouse gases, yeah? They're here to harvest greenhouse gases?"

"So it would seem," the Doctor said.

"They want to remove greenhouse gases from our atmosphere? That's-"

"Horrible, I know."

"No, but I'm-"

"Outraged, yes, I understand. But please try to control yourself, because I still want to hear about skhaszhinbach," he said, his eyes locked on G'ndkhaslar.

Shaun wrinkled his nose. "Ska-what?"

The Doctor glanced over at him. "Did the TARDIS not translate that for you? Well, she can only work with what she's given; some concepts just don't have an English equivalent. I think a very rough paraphrase would be 'mind-join-split'. You can see why I might be curious." He turned back to the Ngskonites. "Well?"

Xog flattened his ears. "It's nothing. It's just an old superstition."

"Oh, I like old superstitions, me. Never know what grain of truth is buried in the legend."

Xog wrinkled his nose, rolled his eyes. "The story goes that when the high priest is ready to pass his robes of office to the chief underpriest, they enter the skhaszhinbach to merge their minds. With the high priest's mind in the underpriest's body, he doesn't have to explain the sacred rites that must never be spoken aloud, because the underpriest now knows all that he does. Once the underpriest has performed the rites a few times, so that the knowledge is his own rather than just borrowed, they enter the skhaszhinbach again, this time to undo the merge, and the underpriest's mind is his own once again."

"That's one way of telling the story," said a junior member of the crew. "The darker version goes that it is the underpriest's mind that is erased at the end. They say that the same high priest has lived for hundreds of years in a succession of stolen bodies."

"Either way, how does it work?" asked the Doctor.

"Who says it does?" said Xog. "I told you, it's just a legend."

"It's not just a legend," said yet another Ngskonite. As Xog rounded on him, he added a belated "...Sir. My aunt's secondary husband is a priest. He's seen it done, he told us."

G'ndkhaslar stamped a back paw. "Fascinating as all this is, it's got nothing to do with the situation at hand." She holstered her gun and went for a conciliatory tone. "Listen, Doctor, it's obvious from your technology that you are not from this planet. You're a visitor, like us. If we off-worlders could find a way to work together...well, we could certainly make it worth your while."

The Doctor rubbed his jaw. "Could you? I mean, if I agreed to help you plunder Earth's treasures, would you give me what I ask for?"

"Name your price."

"The skhaszhinbach." As a collective hiss rose from the Ngskonites, he continued, "Don't worry, I'm not trying to take it from you. One-time-only access, that's all I need. And really only the second stage. See, my friend Donna in there, her mind needs...detangling. And your little device sounds like it might do the trick."

G'ndkhaslar and Xog exchanged a look, but before they could reply, Shaun said, "If you all could excuse us just a minute." Grabbing the Doctor's arm and hauling him to the farthest part of the room, he whispered, "What are you thinking? You're banking on some mystical device, which may not even exist, and even if it does, it certainly wasn't designed for a human-Time Lord hybrid. That's insane."

"Let me ask you a question, Shaun. Have Donna's memories ever broken through before today?"

Shaun rubbed his head. "Yeah. Yeah, it was back when the Ma-"

The Doctor threw a hand up. "No details, thanks very much. I know too much already. But yes, I thought I saw the scarring when I was in her mind earlier. What I did to her - I mean, what the other Doctor did - it was a fragile fix to begin with. And it's already been damaged at least a couple of times since. I'm not sure that another patch job will hold. She's fine for now in the Zero Room, but..."

Shaun paled. "Are you saying she's going to die?"

"I'm saying our options are limited. And this is the most promising one we have at the moment." He patted the other man's shoulder. "Chin up. If it exists at all, I'll make it work. Did that Wilf of yours not mention that I'm a genius?" He strode back to his other guests. "So how about it? Do we have a deal?"

G'ndkhaslar flicked her tail slowly. "It's way above my pay grade. I can't make any promises. But I will plead your case."

The Doctor grinned. "Funnily enough, that's actually all I can do for you too. Because you've got to realize, this is a level 5 planet. You can't just come in and take what you want without a by-your-leave."

"It's because it's only a level 5 planet that we have to just come in and take. We can't deal with this population. You said yourself that they'd panic if they saw us without shimmers," G'ndkhaslar argued.

"The general populace isn't ready for you, no. But there are authorities that have worked with aliens like us before. That's where I can help - make introductions, put in a good word for you. After that, it's up to you. It'll take more time and effort, but I think you'll find diplomatic relations to be to your advantage in the end."

G'ndkhaslar and Xog huddled together near the door, consulting in low voices for several minutes while the Doctor impatiently fiddled with the console, before G'ndkhaslar turned back to him and said, "I think I can sell that to the Council of Governors."

"Fantastic!" The Doctor's grin split his face. "As a show of good faith, I'll even make the first move." He tossed a phone receiver - a strangely outdated corded model - into the air and caught it with a flourish before putting it to his ear and dialing.

"UNIT, how may I direct your call?" a female voice responded.

"Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart, if you please."

"I'm sorry, the Brigadier is occu-"

"It's a Code 9, put me through."

There was a long pause, then the operator said, "Yes, sir." As the line began playing a ring tone, the Doctor switched to speaker mode and dropped the receiver back into its cradle.

"Lethbridge-Stewart speaking," said a clipped voice.

"Brigadier! It's been too long. How is life treating you?"

"Listen, whoever you are, I'm extremely busy. I'm afraid I have no time for idle chat."

"No, no, downed spaceship in the middle of Paris, I wouldn't imagine you do. But not to worry, I'm on the job."

There was a pause, then the Brigadier said slowly, "Who is this?"

The Time Lord grinned. "Hello, Alistair. I'm the Doctor."

"I don't recognize your voice."

"No, you wouldn't. It's new. Barely recognize it myself."

"Then, at the risk of looking a gift horse in the mouth, how do I know you are who you say you are?"

The Doctor thought for a moment, then said in rapid staccato: "Yeti. Cybermen. Autons. Silurians. Mars Probe. Primords. More Autons. The Master. Axons. Azal and the Master. Daleks and Ogrons. The Master yet again. Omega. Mutant maggots. Dinosaurs. Giant spiders. Giant robot. Zygons and the Loch Ness Monster. Mawdryn. The Death Zone. Morgaine."

There was a long pause, then Lethbridge-Stewart said, "Did you just recite all of our, shall we say, shared experiences in chronological order?"

"I think so. May have flubbed a couple. It's been a few hundred years."

"Doctor!" The Brigadier's voice warmed considerably. "Please tell me everything is under control."

"Everything is under control."

"Is that actually true?"

"Seems to be. More or less. I've got you on speaker with some of the crew of the Ngskonite ship, so no xenophobic remarks. They're not here to invade; they are interested in mining the atmosphere for CFCs and the like. I've agreed to put in a good word for them with Earth's authorities. Which means you."

"Let me make sure I understand. These aliens want to take our greenhouse gases?"

"Yes. They understand that it will cost them, but I think I've convinced them that they are better off having an open trading relationship with Earth rather than skulking around trying to steal what they need."

"Well...well, yes." Only by long familiarity with the Brig could the Doctor tell how bemused the man was. "In the end, open trade would no doubt prove mutually beneficial. I will contact Geneva immediately to set up negotiations."

"Fantastic. Well, that's my job sorted, then, no need for me to stick around for all that tedium. Take care, Alistair." He disconnected the call and turned back to G'ndkhaslar. "Right, I've held up my end of the deal, now it's your turn."


	3. Chapter 3

Several hours later, the Doctor was ducking through a door sized to Ngskonite height, out of the Capitol building and onto the streets of the Ngskonite capital city. G'ndkhaslar loped beside him, easily matching his angry strides, which only served to further irritate the Time Lord.

"I went out of my way on this, G'ndkhaslar. I made introductions, I smoothed the way for you lot on Earth, I got your ship and crew back here, much faster than you ever could have even before your little accident. I even covered for you when that general wanted to know what caused the crash."

"I know. I appreciate it. And I did do my best for you in there, you know that."

He ploughed on without acknowledgement. "And after all that, what does your Council of Governors give me in return? 'The eternal gratitude of the Ngskonite Empire.' Well, that's not what I asked for, is it?"

"They didn't say no, Doctor. They said they would need to discuss it with the Council of Priests."

"Oh yes, I know how that goes. Typical bureaucracy. They'll be 'discussing' from now to eternity, and no one will say no, and no one will ever say yes."

"You're heading the wrong way, you know. Your ship is behind us."

"Oh, I'm not leaving. This isn't over, not by a long shot."

"Then where are you going?"

"There." He pointed to the other end of the long green mall that stretched away from the Capitol, towards a blue glass ziggurat that seemed to rise up to meet the setting sun.

G'ndkhaslar froze in her tracks, causing no little consternation in the stream of pedestrians crowding the sidewalks. "The Grand Temple? You can't go there. Off-worlders aren't allowed."

"Well, then, that will give them something else to discuss." He glanced back at her. "Tell you what, don't mention that you told me that, will you?"

* * *

The Doctor barely avoided braining himself on yet another low lintel as he barged into the Grand Temple, slamming the heavy door in G'ndkhaslar's face. As the handful of worshippers scattered throughout the large open space looked his way in surprise, he buried his tension and irritation deep beneath a daft grin. "Hello there, sorry to interrupt, don't mind me. Just looking for the High Priest. Is he around?"

A scarlet-suited priest hurried up to him, speaking in Galactic Standard Trade Language. "I'm sorry, sir, this temple is restricted. No aliens allowed. If I could direct you instead to the Temple of the Foreigners-"

"Restricted?" The Doctor replied in the same language, and impressed himself with his air of wide-eyed surprise. "Ah, so sorry about that. I guess I didn't see the signs. Actually, I probably did, but I can't read Ngskonite for beans. Illiterate, that's me. Right, I'll just take myself off. But since I'm here now anyway, I don't suppose I could have a word with the High Priest before I go?"

Before the priest could protest, G'ndkhaslar burst through the door, panting as if she had been running a marathon rather than standing around outside for the last couple minutes. "Doctor! There you are! I was about to tell you-" She cut herself off, bowed deeply to the priest. "Humblest apologies, great one. I was trying to warn him, but he was too far ahead of me."

The priest eyed her uniform. "You are the alien's escort, Captain?"

"Yes, the Council of Governors has assigned me to guide him during his visit. The Doctor is an important foreign dignitary, and a recipient of the eternal gratitude of the Ngskonite Empire for services rendered."

The Time Lord beamed. "Oh yes, recipient of eternal gratitude, that's a much better title than illiterate. Surely the High Priest can spare a minute for a chat, one dignitary to another. It's really an urgent matter."

More scarlet-clad priests were heading their way now, and then one arrived who was clearly different from the others. His heavy-set navy-blue figure was clothed in a suit of pale pink and draped in a voluminous matching cloak that swept the floor behind him. And if that wasn't enough to identify him, there was G'ndkhaslar's obeisance: hindquarters still upright, forelegs stretched forward so that her shoulders and head dipped low to the ground, in a gesture that reminded the Doctor of an Earth puppy inviting its mates to play.

"Ah, the High Priest himself, I presume. I'm the Doctor, good to meet you. I'm afraid I don't have the anatomy to give you a proper Ngskonite greeting, but please accept this attempt," he said, bowing from the waist and reaching his arms out.

The High Priest ignored him, demanding of the Doctor's first interlocutor, "Why is there a pink two-leg in the Grand Temple?"

"I tried to-" began the cringing priest, but the Doctor cut across him in flawless Ngskonite.

"Oi, the pink two-leg can understand your racist remarks, thanks. Listen, I'll be quite happy to take myself off, but first I really need to see the skhaszhinbach."

A murmur ran through the crowd, and the High Priest's green eyes widened, then narrowed. "We can talk, but only outside of the temple." He gestured to the doors.

"Oh, sure, ta." The Doctor ducked through the doorway onto the broad porch, the crowd of priests following.

"Now, then, Doctor, was it? I am Kshinle. The first thing I would like to know is, What can you possibly know of the skhaszhinbach?"

"Only what I've heard. And I've got to tell you, some of your people don't even believe it exists."

"Then what makes you so sure it does?"

"Oh, I wasn't sure at all, not till a few seconds ago. Soon as I said I needed to see it, about half of your priests glanced to the left. So it's real and it's here and it's somewhere in the left wing of the temple, isn't it?" Kshinle didn't speak, but his own involuntary glance confirmed what the Doctor already believed. "As for what I've heard about what it does...Downloads a copy of my mind into your head, then erases it once you're done with it, sound about right? Thing is, I've got a friend who's in need of the erasing part."

Kshinle frowned. "I'm not following. You want to erase your friend's mind?"

"No, just the copy of my mind that she's stuck with. See, I already managed the downloading part of the process myself, apparently."

"How did-?"

"No idea, actually. It's better that way. I'll find out when it happens. Anyway, the point is, it's a matter of life and death."

Kshinle sighed. "First of all, I have no idea what you are babbling about. Second of all, I'm sorry, but you have to understand, the skhaszhinbach is sacred. We can't allow its use for any secular purpose, no matter the circumstances."

"What could be a more sacred purpose than saving a life?" the Doctor argued.

Kshinle pawed the blue glass floor, clearly uncomfortable yet unwilling to relent. "No, Doctor. I'm not going to argue it with you. I'm sorry, but...no." He swept back into the temple, cloak and acolytes trailing behind him, and the decisive sound of a lock clicking into place told the Doctor there was no point in following.

The Time Lord clenched his fists and his jaw, then forced them to relax. As he strode down the steps of the porch, G'ndkhaslar trotted after him. "What are you going to do now, Doctor?"

He stopped midway down the stairs and turned to face her. "Listen, I know we didn't get off on the right foot, you and me, but I think you're a decent sort, and I respect you. So please believe that I'm being quite sincere when I say that you really don't want to know."

She stared at him for a long minute. "I should report you to the Councils."

"Probably. Go on, then."

She looked away, scratched an ear with a foreleg. "I will, I absolutely will. Just as soon as I finish the mountain of paperwork from the post-mission reports. So...goodbye, Doctor. I can't say it's been a pleasure, but it has been interesting."

He grinned. "Same here." And then he was jogging down the steps towards the TARDIS, as G'ndkhaslar turned in the opposite direction.

* * *

The Doctor poked his head around the Zero Room door to see Shaun sitting cross-legged, contemplating Donna's peaceful slumber. "Any change?"

"No."

"That's good. Trust me, for right now, no change is good."

Shaun jumped to his feet and followed the Time Lord into the console room. "So did you get permission to use this mind thingamajig?"

"Not completely," said the Doctor as he turned knobs and pulled levers.

"What does that mean?"

"Well, does a wink and a nudge from G'ndkhaslar count?"

"No."

"Then, not at all."

"So what are we going to do?" Shaun's voice was high with anxiety, and he rubbed at his scalp.

The Doctor stilled his movements to look the other man in the eye. "I don't know how much you've been told about me. But has anything you've heard made you think that I'm a big believer in waiting on permission for anything?"

Shaun pondered this for a moment, then blew out a long breath and nodded his understanding. "So we're breaking in?"

"We're breaking in," the Doctor said, as the TARDIS agreed with a grinding sound of materialization. He started towards the Zero Room, then caught himself and changed course for the corridor. "Nope, not toting her all over creation again."

He was back a few minutes later, zipping down the hallway in what looked to Shaun like an overstuffed chartreuse recliner that floated a foot off the floor. "What in the-?"

"It's a hoverchair. Think 23rd century's answer to the wheelchair. If I recall, I got this one on Plumger, that time that Jamie broke his leg learning to surf the mercury sea." He pivoted the chair into the Zero Room and hopped to his feet. "Come on, help me load her in."

Once Donna was safely stowed in the chair, a tap of a button raised cushioned vertical ridges on the back to support her lolling head. With the lightest touch of the Doctor's hand to guide it, the chair glided back into the console room and then through the outer doors into a storage room. The Doctor poked his head cautiously into the deserted hallway beyond, and then threw open the door and strode down the corridor.

Shaun glanced around nervously as he hurried to keep pace. "This is the temple? Where is everyone?"

"I jumped us ahead a few hours. Middle of the night. Shouldn't be more than a guard or two around."

"How do you know where you're going?"

"I don't. But I've got enough clues to make an educated guess. It's somewhere on the south side of the temple. But the populace in general doesn't know much about it, so it must be somewhere off-limits to the public. It's sacred to them, so I don't think they'd stick it in the basement. And the current High Priest is no spring chicken, so it's probably been a while since it was last used."

He stopped abruptly, finger to his lips, then sonicked open the nearest door and shoved Shaun and Donna through it, just before the unhurried footsteps of a sentry on routine rounds reached human ears. He stood absolutely still for a moment, ear pressed to the door, then eased it open and slipped back into the corridor, beckoning Shaun to follow.

They wandered in silence, the Doctor poking his head into rooms seemingly at random, Shaun wondering how long it would be until a sentry heard either the whir of the screwdriver or else the pounding of his heart.

And then the Doctor halted abruptly, turned to investigate a short side hallway he had nearly passed. Shaun stopped the hoverchair just in time to avoid a collision. "What is it?" he whispered.

"This hall...It's barely been used."

"How can you tell?"

"Main corridor's full of scents of people passing through. This one's got just one, maybe two. Probably a janitor or a guard."

"How...? You can smell...?" began Shaun, but a glare from the Time Lord silenced him.

Another buzz from the screwdriver against the door at the end of the hall, then the Doctor eased the door handle down. He winced, muttered something Shaun couldn't catch, and then threw the door open and tapped a panel on the wall inside to bathe the room in dim golden light.

The space thus revealed was as grand as the hallway leading to it was prosaic. Three walls were covered in tapestries decorated in abstract patterns of red and blue. The fourth, facing the doorway, was the exterior wall of the ziggurat, blue glass soaring high overhead and angling in to form the room's ceiling, a hazy suggestion of the moon filtering through. Two concentric semi-circles of red cushions were arranged on the floor in front of the focal point of the room: a tall white cylinder flanked by two circular platforms. Two arms extended from the top of the cylinder over the platforms, wire leads dangling from their ends.

The Doctor locked the door behind them with the screwdriver. He circled the apparatus once, appraising, then pulled a panel off of the back of the cylinder, cried, "Aha! I suspected as much!" and went to work inside.

Shaun watched him, stroked Donna's hair absently, shifted from foot to foot until he was compelled to say, "Uh, Doctor, how long do y-"

"Working as fast as I can," came the reply. "You're the one who pointed out that this thing wasn't designed for human brains. If you want to be useful, you could get Donna into position on the left-hand platform." As Shaun moved to comply, the Doctor snapped, "My left, not your left."

"I don't mean to rush you. I'm just...What if we set off a silent alarm or something when we came in?"

"Nothing silent about it," the Doctor said dryly. "It's screeching away like one of those horrible Venusian new-age bands. It's just out of your range of hearing, is all, and be glad about that." He poked his head around the column to see that Donna was in place. "Good, now put the leads on her. One on each temple, one between her eyebrows, one on the notch at the base of the skull."

"Done."

"Okay, now see the control panel on the front of the machine?"

Shaun stooped to peer at a row of five gauges, all their needles quiescent to the left, with a round knob under each, and a large red button centered below them. "Yes."

"When you hit that big button, all the needles are going to jump straight up. You need to keep them there. If one starts moving off-center, turn its dial in the opposite direction. But gently - you don't want to overcompensate."

"Wait, me? Shouldn't you be handling this?"

The Doctor jumped onto the right-hand platform - his right, not Shaun's - sat cross-legged to fit under the metal arm, and began attaching the leads to his temples. "I'm going to be sat right here with wires sticking out of my head, hoping against hope that my current brain pattern isn't too far off from the copy that Donna got stuck with." He placed the last lead at the back of his neck. "Ready, start her up."

Shaun hesitated. "One of those aliens said there was a rumor that the high priest's mind had been passed on for generations, that it was the hosts' minds that kept getting wiped out. What if-"

"The rumor is wrong."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I've looked the high priest in the eyes. He doesn't have the eyes of someone who has outlived everyone he's ever loved. Start her up, Shaun."

The two men jumped at a sudden commotion outside, a rattling of the door handle. "Now, Shaun!" the Doctor yelled, and Shaun slammed the heel of his hand on the button.

An electric hum filled the air, and both bodies on the platforms went rigid. Shaun instinctively started towards Donna, but the Doctor's voice, tight and rough, stopped him. "Stay at the panel. She needs you manning those gauges."

Shaun obeyed, then found a fresh source of distraction when the door burst open and two guards tumbled into the room.

"Gauges!" the Doctor reminded him when his head whipped around. And he certainly had plenty there to keep him busy. Some of the needles drifted slowly, some oscillated erratically, but none wanted to stay where he put them. His hands flew along the dials, eyes flickering back and forth, as he thought that maybe his video-game-filled youth had not been so misspent after all.

The guards aimed their guns, one at the Doctor's chest, the other at the back of Shaun's head. "Everyone away from the skhaszhinbach, now!"

The Doctor made a sound that was more grunt than laugh. "Please, there is no way you'll risk firing a gun in here."

The two glanced at each other, saw that their bluff had been called, holstered their weapons, reached for Shaun to drag him away by main force.

"Stop!" shouted the Doctor, and despite his intrusion into a sacred place, despite his seated position, despite his face etched with strain, he wore such an air of terrible authority that they obeyed. "If you abort the process now, you will burn out my brain. And if my mind is gone, who will know how to fix the mess I've made of your system?"

The guards exchanged another uneasy glance, and one circled behind the machine, surveyed the exposed innards and the tangle of wiring. "He's telling the truth. About the mess, at least."

"So we wait for the high priest," the other decided.

For a few minutes, they all hung in this weird and delicate balance: Shaun frantically twisting dials; Donna still unconscious but stiff-limbed, her breaths coming in quick gasps; the Doctor breathing slowly and deeply with a fierce concentration that betrayed how difficult breathing slowly and deeply was; the guards pacing anxiously whilst they awaited their superior.

At last Kshinle arrived at the head of a small phalanx of priests. "Why are you just standing there?" he roared at the guards, who dropped in obeisance, mumbling, "Apologies, great one," and repeating the Doctor's threat-warning. Kshinle examined the modifications, then said, "Send for Technician Zazo." A priest hurried away to comply.

Kshinle settled himself onto one of the cushions, which was apparently the signal for his followers to do the same. "And someone take over the controls from that two-leg."

Shaun found himself roughly pulled aside, his protests cut off at a motion of the Doctor's fingers. Not that protests would have mattered, as the guards held him with his arms tightly behind his back. But he found some comfort in watching the efficiency with which his replacement worked the controls.

Another few moments of waiting and watching and dialing and breathing, and at last the pitch of the machine's hum dropped and all the needles stood to attention. The Doctor heaved a sigh as the tension drained from his body, slumped forward with his elbows on his knees and his head hung low.

"So you got your way after all, Doctor," Kshinle said.

The Time Lord opened his eyes. "I won't know that till I know if it worked."

"Donna? Donna, love, can you hear me?" Shaun struggled against his captors.

"Her mind has been through a lot. Only to be expected that it'll take her a while to wake up," the Doctor said. He grinned at Kshinle. "I knew it was powered by Metebelis crystals, you know. Psychic transference like that, it was the only possible source."

Kshinle ignored him in favor of the new arrival in the room, a pale-blue female in white coveralls and a toolbelt. "Ah, Zazo, good timing. The stranger will show you what he did to the workings so you can fix it."

As Zazo made her obeisance, the Doctor muttered, "Faster and easier if I just fixed it myself."

"Absolutely not!"

The Doctor shrugged. "Suit yourself." And then he was hauled to his knees by two priests, forced to shuffle awkwardly towards the central column with his arms gripped tightly behind him.

As soon as Zazo announced that the repairs were complete, Kshinle stood. "Take them all down to the holding cells. Clohach, you will stand first watch."

There was general hesitation. "Even the female?" one priest ventured. "Surely she can't be held responsible for..."

"For now, they stay together. We will sort out responsibility later."

And so in short order, the intruders found themselves bundled into a cell in the basement of the temple: a couple of thin grey mattresses placed directly on the floor, a pit toilet in the corner next to a small white sink, all enclosed by three blank white walls and a fourth side of blue glass bars from floor to ceiling. Their jailer, apparently considering the cell escape-proof, settled himself on a cushion in the corridor facing the bars, curled into a ball, and promptly fell asleep.

"Well, that went better than expected," the Doctor said cheerfully, as he explored the perimeter of their small pen, his hand trailing along the wall.

Shaun's eyebrows rose. "Getting tossed into an alien dungeon is better than you expected?"

"They could have just executed us right on the spot. This way, we've got time to come up with a plan. And anyway, I'd hardly call this a dungeon. I'd say it was one of the nicer prisons I've been in."

Shaun was saved from having to find a fitting response to that when Donna began to stir. She shifted restlessly in her chair, her eyes slowly fluttered open, she smacked her lips, then frowned and pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand while shielding her eyes with the other.

Shaun dropped to his knees beside her. "Donna, love? How are you feeling?"

"Feeling?" she said hoarsely. "Like I've been hit by a truck. This is the worst hangover ever. What was I doing last night? Was I out with Nerys?" She peered up at him irritably from beneath the shade of her hand. "I told you to stop me the next time she tried to drag me along on one of her girls' nights."

"You weren't with Nerys," Shaun began, but Donna wasn't listening. She raised her hand slowly, pointed an unsteady finger towards the bars and the corridor beyond.

"This...this is a jail cell. That's an alien."

"Well, we're on his planet, so technically we're the aliens," said an annoyingly cheerful voice over her shoulder.

"We're in an alien jail on alien planet. Oh, this has the Doctor written all over it. Where is he?"

"Right here," the cheerful voice said.

Donna twisted around to see the owner of the voice. She found herself blinking up in confusion at a pair of blue eyes, a long nose, close-cropped dark hair. "Who are...? No, wait. Wait, I remember you. Mister Super-Spy."

"Better known as the Doctor."

She stared a moment, then shook her head. "Sorry, mate. I'm not talking about some top-secret code name. This friend of mine - that's his actual name. Although what kind of overbearing parents would saddle their kid with an overachieving name like that, I can't-" She cut herself off, frowned at him. "At the Eiffel Tower, when you showed us your credentials, Shaun was the one who saw MI-6. All I saw was blank paper."

The Doctor said nothing, just smiled patiently.

"And then at the cafe, when the spaceship was crashing, you said you would offer them a lift home. How did you plan to do that, exactly?"

"With my TARDIS, of course."

Her breath caught in her throat. "Doctor?"

"Hello." He waggled his fingers and grinned.

Donna massaged her brows. "But...but you can't be him. I've never seen you before today."

Shaun frowned, laid the back of his hand against her forehead to check her temperature. "Did something go wrong? Why would she think that?"

"Possibly because she's never seen me before today."

"Wait, I remember now!" Donna sat forward in the chair. "You explained it, you called it...reignition?"

"Regeneration." The Doctor's grin stiffened, froze. He wasn't quite sure why he always felt so awkward discussing such a perfectly natural part of his biology with humans. Maybe it felt too much like rubbing their noses in the difference between his lifespan and theirs, the long steady burn of a campfire versus the flicker of a firefly. Eager to change the subject, he reached for her head. "If you don't mind, I'll just check that everything is properly cleaned up in there."

She slapped his hands away. "Keep your paws to yourself, Martian man. It's coming back to me now - last time I let you in my head, you wiped a good part of it out."

Shaun came to his defence, clasping one of her hands in both of his. "It was only to save your life, Donna. But he's fixed it now. He's cleared out the stuff that didn't belong but left all that was yours. Isn't that right, Doctor?"

"That's the plan. You're remembering things about me, about your time with me, so that's a good sign. Not surprising that you're feeling hung over right now, but as long as you don't take a turn for the worse, I think we'll be able to declare success."

Donna stared at him for a long time, trying to see the man she knew in the person before her. At last, she sighed, rubbed her eyes, leaned back in the hoverchair. "Well, if you're really still him, you must have some clever-clogs plan for getting us out of here."

"Working on it." The Doctor began pacing the cell again, then stopped and looked up at the ceiling, a smooth white surface marred only by a small grill covering a ventilation duct.

Donna followed the direction of his eyes. "Uh-uh. There's no way any of us are going to fit through there."

He grinned, pulled his sonic screwdriver out of his jacket, nodded his head at the softly snoring guard. "Do you think he'll be so sure of that?"


	4. Chapter 4

Clohach startled awake at the sound of something clattering on the floor. The two male strangers were standing in the middle of the cell, looking frightened and guilty, a metal ventilation grill lying at their feet. Clohach's eyes tracked upwards to see the garish green hovercushion pressed up against the ceiling, right where the duct was. The back of the L-shaped cushion was towards him, blocking his view, but a leg covered in beige fabric and brown shoe dangled below it, so he knew the female was up there.

"Hurry, Donna! Save yourself!" the darker male shouted, and the leg vanished from view.

Clohach cursed and dove for the cell door, fumbling for the keycard on its chain around his neck. He wasn't sure he could leap high enough to catch the female before she escaped through the duct, but he had to try. Kshinle would have his hide for this.

As soon as he threw the door open, the paler male yelled, "Now, Donna!" And suddenly the cushion was swooping down towards him, knocking him off his feet, sending him crashing back against the far wall of the corridor. By the time he staggered back to his feet, the hovercushion with the female was halfway down the hall, the males running after it.

* * *

Donna whooped as she rode down the hall, kneeling on the seat and leaning over the back, feeling like Ben-Hur. The Doctor made a flying leap and landed on one knee on the left armrest. Donna glanced back to see Shaun struggling to get close enough to do the same, whilst the guard was now charging after them. "Come on, Shaun! You can do it!" She reached an encouraging hand back.

Shaun flung himself forward. He managed to grab onto the side of the chair back with his left hand, but his knees hit the very edge of the seat and slid off. Donna grabbed his right arm with both hands and clung on, as his feet dragged helplessly along the floor.

"Just let me go, love! Save yourself!" he cried.

"No way, you big oaf." She gritted her teeth with the effort. And then, just when it felt like her grip would fail, the Doctor tapped a button on the control panel, and the footrest rose up from the chair, catching Shaun's legs and allowing him to scramble forward to safety.

With the Doctor at the controls, they rocketed down hallways, around corners, up stairs, with dizzying speed. At last, a hard right turn nearly bucked them off, and then an abrupt halt pressed them all into the chair back.

In front of them was the storage room where they had left the TARDIS. But now the storage room door was wide open, the TARDIS rested on a wheeled pallet, and between them and their goal were four Ngskonites, plainly perplexed about how to fit a large box through a small doorframe.

The Doctor flashed his most charming smile. "Quite a puzzler you've got there. If you'll just stand aside, we'd be happy to take it off your hands." He pulled his key from his jacket, waved it at them.

The Ngskonites glanced at each other. They had no weapons, no comms to call for backup; they outnumbered the strangers, but just barely. Yet they had to try. In the narrow hallway, two abreast advanced slowly towards the hoverchair, whilst the others bided their time.

The Doctor's smile faltered. "Uh, would you believe that Kshinle said we were free to leave? No?" He watched the first two approach, saw their muscles coil. Just as they leaped, he shot the chair straight up, its occupants ducking to avoid braining themselves on the ceiling. And then just as fast, they were plummeting back down, pinning the second pair of Ngskonites to the ground. The Doctor jammed his key into the lock and threw the door open, and the travellers scrambled up and over the chair back, tumbling into the TARDIS. The Doctor kicked the door closed, and they all lay still for a moment catching their breath.

"Everyone okay?" the Time Lord asked at last.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Donna?"

"I'm fine. But what about those poor saps you just squashed?"

For answer, the Doctor jumped to his feet, stepping over her as she still lay sprawled on the grating, and turned the console monitor to face her. It showed their would-be captors shoving the chair from off of them, looking very indignant but no worse for the wear. An instant later, four sets of fists were pounding on the exterior, pulling at the door handle. But then the sounds faded away, replaced by the wheezing of an ancient time machine on the move.

Shaun propped himself up on one elbow. "We've probably just caused an intergalactic incident, yeah?"

"Oh yes. I imagine there will be an official protest. Earth might need to give them a discount on the price of CFCs, just to smooth things over."

Donna sat up. "The price of what now?"

Shaun laughed, scooted over to her, wrapped her in a tight hug. "Oh my girl, you've slept through so much!"

* * *

As the Time Rotor stilled, Donna was the first one to the doors. "Oh, I love this part so much!" She looked back over her shoulder. "Don't tell me, let me figure it out."

The Doctor gestured to the doors, and Donna flung them open and stepped outside, inhaling deeply. "Big city, obviously. Looks like Earth. Looks like twenty-first century. Looks like..." She stared up at the iron latticework soaring above her head. "Paris. This is Paris." She whirled, point an accusing finger at the Doctor. "You brought us back to Paris."

He frowned in confusion. "Well, I thought you'd like to get back to your holiday. But if you'd rather I take you straight home..."

"I thought we'd travel again. Like old times. Oh, I guess I should have discussed it with you, Shaun, but trust me, you'll love it, it's a brilliant life, so much out there to see and-"

"You can't," the Doctor said flatly, and she stopped, mouth still open. "I can leave you here, or I can leave you in London, but you can't travel with me."

She was frozen for a moment, then her face flushed. "So you had your fill of me, then? Finally got shot of me, and now you don't want me back? Or is it Shaun? Is that it, you don't want us with you because he's black? Of all the-"

The Doctor's snort was equal parts amusement and indignation. "If I've got no problem travelling the universe with an entirely different species, you really think I'd have a problem with some pigment variations within that species?"

"So it is me, then. I'm the problem."

He wrinkled his brow. "Why would I care any more about your pigment than about his? I travelled with another ginger once, actually. Melanie, her name was. She had a set of lungs on her. Not unlike you, come to think of it. I-"

"I'm not talking about my hair, dumbo! Is it...I don't know, you've raised the bar for your companions? I don't make the cut anymore? I don't meet your lofty Time Lord standards?"

His eyebrows rose. "No, Donna! It's not personal. You can't travel with me now, because you haven't travelled with me yet."

"What? What is that even supposed to mean? Have you forgotten all our time together? Did that machine wipe out your mem-"

"Donna," Shaun said in a quiet voice that still somehow managed to reach her. "Maybe just shut up for a minute and let him explain, yeah?"

The Doctor took a deep breath. "I thought you realized. The Doctor you met, the Doctor you travelled with - I'm not him yet. He's a future version of me. If you stayed with me here and now...well, tangling up the timelines like that is a fantastically bad idea, trust me."

"Oh." She was blessedly quiet for a moment.

"So what about you now?" Shaun asked. "Are you going to have to wipe your memory or something, so your future self doesn't know too much about Donna?"

"Nah, I don't think so. There are times when memory blocks are necessary, but in general, they're a bad idea - you never know when you're blocking some information that may be vital later on. In this case, I know we meet and travel and get our brains tangled, but I don't know when or how any of that happens, so I think it should be fine."

"But you told Wilf you couldn't fix her. Why would you say that if you knew about the ska-jean-back?"

"Ah," the Doctor grinned and held up a finger. "I think it's _because_ I'll know about the skhaszhinbach. Can't imagine I would give up so easily otherwise. But I'll know that you have to meet and get married and come to Paris for your anniversary and run into me. That me won't be able to fix her because he knows this me already did."

Shaun shook his head. "This whole thing gives me a headache. But if you say it'll be fine, I'll believe you." He glanced between the Doctor and Donna, then reached out and shook the Time Lord's hand. "I'll leave you two to say goodbye. Thanks for everything, Doctor. I've never known the whole Donna - I'm looking forward to it. And I hope this isn't the last we see of you."

Then he was gone, and the Doctor and the companion he had never had were facing each other awkwardly. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better. Much better, honestly." She hesitated, rubbed her hand idly along the railing. "Just...promise me. Promise me that once the timelines are straight or whatever, you'll come and find me. Me and Shaun."

"I promise," he said, lips stretched taut in a semblance of a smile.

She studied him a moment, then shook her head. "Pfft. No, you won't, I know it. I don't even know why I asked. You have the attention span of a gerbil. And I know I'm nothing special. I'm just a temp from Chiswick, but-"

"Hey now. No such thing as just a temp. Last alien invasion, there was this girl. Just a girl off a run-down council estate. Just a shop girl. And after I blew up her job, she wasn't even that. But it didn't stop her from being fantastic. Saved me, she did. Saved the world."

"Yeah?" Donna didn't sound convinced. "If she was so brilliant, why didn't you take her along with you?"

The Doctor shrugged, crossed his arms, looked away awkwardly. "I...I may have made an offer. But she had...responsibilities." The wrinkle of his nose revealed what he thought of that concept.

Donna was silent for a few beats, then said, "You're rubbish on your own, you know. You should go back, ask her again."

"Nah, I don't do that sort of thing." He didn't bother trying to refute her first statement. "I asked, she said no. No point in rehashing."

"Doctor, you've got to understand." Donna drew a deep breath, let out a long sigh. "Us humans, sometimes it just takes us a mo to wrap our heads around the concept of swanning off into time and space. I said no to you too. And then I regretted it, and it took me months to track you down. You wouldn't believe the garbage I had to wade through online. Don't put her through that, this...what was her name?"

"Rose. Rose Tyler."

Donna paused just a few seconds too long; when she did speak, she was making an obvious effort to keep her voice level and casual, and failing miserably. "Rose. Right. Well, if Rose really is so _fantastic_, she's probably kicking herself right now. Give her a second chance."

"I'll think about it." The Doctor was much better than Donna at concealing his frisson of excitement.

"Yeah, you do that, spaceman. By the way, did you tell her it's a time machine? I seem to recall you leaving that little detail out for a good long while with me."

He snorted, didn't reply, but tucked that idea away for future consideration.

"So," she pressed, "When I track you down again - and I will, believe me - you'll take me back? You're not just using this timeline business as an excuse because I'm some kind of annoying excess baggage?"

The Doctor leaned back against the console, stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets. "The thing about you, Donna, is that you care. You cared about me up on the Eiffel Tower. You cared about the crash victims; you cared when you thought we squashed those Ngskonites in our escape. Of course, you can also screech like a banshee. But presumably I get used to that at some point in the future. The caring is what's most important. It will be my honor to travel with you someday."

Her face flushed nearly as red as her hair, and before he could react, she had wrapped her arms around him, pinning his own awkwardly at his sides. She planted a sound kiss on his cheek, then released him and backed towards the door. "Take care of yourself, Doctor. I will find you. Just don't make it too hard for me."

"I don't doubt it, and I wouldn't dream of it."

And then she whirled out of the door, and he could hear her shrill cry, "Hey, Shaun, what about that dinner at Le Meurice you promised me?"

He smiled wistfully, paced around the console, feeling the sudden emptiness of the vast room. And then Donna's words floated back to him, _"By the way, did you tell her it's a time machine?"_ He grinned at his reflection in the Time Rotor. "You know, I don't believe that I did." A twist of some knobs, a pull of a lever, and the TARDIS leapt once more through the Vortex.


End file.
